


Homesick

by acatone



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, M/M, but interpret it however you like, its not really genyatta tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 13:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acatone/pseuds/acatone
Summary: It takes Zenyatta a while to understand the concept of homesickness.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to send me genji-centric fic prompts at cyborgsparrows.tumblr.com via ask or message!

It takes Zenyatta a while to understand the concept of homesickness. Being a young omnic, there are still many things that he does not understand or has not experienced.

Leaving home was one of them.

Genji on the other hand, has had to leave home. He had to leave Hanamura, and had to leave behind his life as an overwatch agent

It isn’t rare for Zenyatta to find the cyborg sitting on top of the monastery’s roof, a small, pale, pink flower in hand. It was not a cherry blossom, no. But it was just as small, fragile, and beautiful as one. And it was enough to remind him of Hanamura.

Zenyatta would watch from afar, until on a particularly warm day, he’d approach his student, and asks him of his little ritual.

“It reminds me of a place,” he’d say

A moment of hesitation before he continued.

“Of home.”

“If I may ask, where is this home of yours?”

And for a moment, Genji thought of not answering. Not because he was unwilling, but because he does not know where this “home” is. Not anymore.

And yet, he mentioned the city of cherry blossoms, Hanamura. How he grew up there, how he missed it. He wonders how Hanzo is faring, a thought the didn’t think he would ever consider. It’s hard to admit but he misses his brother, and his family. He wonders about where everything went wrong. But then his mind wanders to Overwatch, and it’s members. Oh, how he missed late night chats with the cowboy, or the commander’s permanently annoyed face. He didn’t realize how much he missed them. And now with the explosion and disbandment of overwatch, there was nothing he could do. Genji didn’t realize just how much he missed these things until he found his eyes wet with tears.

Zenyatta can hear his student’s voice cracking, he asks if Genji would like to go there, but Genji declined, saying that he couldn’t, that he wasn’t ready. Zenyatta wonders why Genji does not want to return, but then again, he does not yet understand how Genji felt, and was in no place to offer him advice, or words of comfort. He couldn’t do anything. Not yet.

They do not talk about “home” for a very long time after that. They do not talk about it, until Zenyatta decides to leave the monastery, until Mondatta’s death, until Zenyatta realizes he has nowhere to return to.

Genji vividly remembers, seeing his master so vulnerable. His shoulders hunched, his engines whir so loudly. He also remembers hearing quiet sobs. Genji looks at his master from afar, and thought of Hanzo. He too, had heard Hanzo’s cries as his vision faded. Did his brother mourn for him like this as well?

And after a night of turbulence, Genji approaches his master the next day to offer words of comfort

“How do you feel, master?” He asks, in a careful quiet tone.

“Is this how you felt?” He asks.

Genji looks at him sympathetically.

“I… I feel lost,” Zenyatta said. “Like I have nowhere to return to,”

(( But you do, Genji thought.))

“Would you like to visit the monastery?” The cyborg asks.

The monk hesitates for a second. Would he still be welcome there?

((This must be how Genji felt, he thought))

“We should visit the monastery,” Zenyatta replied. It was a trying time, his brothers would need all the support they could get, even if they no longer welcomed him, he should at least try.

And so they visited the monastery, and they were welcomed with open hands. Zenyatta went with his brothers, and offered support and comforting word, and they caught up with each other. Seeing them, Genji felt a pang of guilt, and jealousy. Hanzo was probably there suffering alone. How could he be so selfish? He was not the only one who lost something on that fateful night. Hanzo had also lost something important. He lost his younger brother, and so much more. He wonders if his brother felt the same. Does he miss the old Hanamura? Does he miss the old days? Does he miss his little brother? And so, he climbed up the roof again. And he cried. He misses home. He misses the city, and the arcade, and the lovers, and the food, and he misses his brother. He wants to go home, even if the city has changed and the people do not recognize him, even if its no longer the place he knew.

He wants to go home.

And perhaps, when the tide calms, Genji would climb back down, where Zenyatta would be waiting, and he’d steel himself to say the words he’s been refusing to say.

“Master, I wish to visit Hanamura,” he’d say.

“I want to go home,”


	2. Epilogue

Of course visiting Hanamura was easier said than done.

He almost cried as they got off the train station. He has missed the city, and he has missed so much of it. The city, to put frankly, was no more. It has been merged with another district, and had lost its name. The people were different, some of the shops has been replaced and renovated. And yet, there was still a sense of nostalgia when he entered. He really did miss this place.

Genji didn’t know how to feel, he was both glad and upset that so much has changed. The city has moved on without him, he wonders if his brother has moved on with the city as well. He wonders if this is the right thing to do. He took the day to show his master around. The arcade was still there. It was empty during the day, but knows that businessmen and teenagers alike would start pouring in in the afternoon. The arcade itself has changed, physically. There were new machines, they had a new mascot. But his eyes went into the claw machine in the far back, filled with pachimari plushies, he recalled his time there.

He told the omnic monk about how he spent his hours here. He offered to show his master around the arcade which Zenyatta approved, to his surprise. They tried a couple of games, and Genji managed to give his master a small pachimari plush from the claw machine. They left as the sun went down, as people start pouring into the arcades. Instead they rested by a park. He watched as people move around, while the omnic monk fiddled with the turnip plush with amusement.

He was about to invite his master to accompany him grab some food for himself, when his eye caught sight of a man. A passing figure of his past. He was downtrodden, wearing clothes from a bitter past. He was unkempt, his ponytail half undone, his hair growing grey and his eyes tired. Most importantly, his arm was covered in familiar blue scales. His first impulse was to run up to him, or call out to him, but Genji found himself frozen in place.   
Zenyatta must have noticed, because he carefully placed a hand on his tensing shoulders and asks him if he’s alright.

“I found him,”

That was all Genji could muster.

With little explanation, the cyborg stood up, and slowly, silently, followed the tattooed man into an izakaya. Zenyatta followed quietly after him.

Genji however only stood by the entrance, refusing to enter. He quickly turned back, his breathing hitched and fast. He doesn’t know what to do now. He doesn’t know how to approach his brother, if it truly is him. Would Hanzo believe him if he claimed to be Genji? Would Hanzo be angry, would he hurt Hanzo even more? Does he even want to confront Hanzo? He’s the one who attempted to murder him after all. Is this all really worth the effort? Feeling doubt and anger boiling up, Zenyatta quietly pulled his pupil aside. Hands on Genji’s shoulders, he made his student watch Hanzo from afar. He told him to wait, and look. And so that’s what they did. Keeping a firm hand on his pupil’s shoulder, the two men watched the tattooed man from afar. They watched him down one, two, three shots, which soon turned into a bottle, and then two. With time, and with every shot, Genji felt his anger and doubt dissipate, slowly turning into sympathy, and guilt. Guilt for being so selfish, and thinking only of himself, and his feelings. Attached these years he never considered that it wasn’t just him who lost important things that night.   
A feeling of deja Vu washed over him, he remembers thinking this very same thought on the monastery roof that one evening. Visiting the city had seemed so much easier then. He did expect emotional turbulence, but he didn’t realize how much this city, and his brother had meant to him. A part of him wants to barge in and give him a hug, but Genji knows he can’t.

Not yet.

So for now he leaves Hanzo to drink to Oblivion, even if it makes his heart ache seeing him this way. He waits until it’s that particular day. Or rather, the anniversary of that particular day. Initially, Genji did not understand why the brother that killed him bothered to leave out incense and offerings for him. Then again, he was blinded by anger and selfishness, and could not see things from his brother’s point of view. Now he knows that the choice to murder him was not Hanzo’s, and that ultimately, it was their family who failed both of them. Now he sees that he’s not the only one hurting, he only wished he’d seen it sooner. He only wished he could be there for his brother sooner.   
And now he’s back here. Within the castle walls, with his brother. And he’s going to make things right.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please consider donating to my ko-fi at https://ko-fi.com/A6463ZHI  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
